Politicians have a history of using fear to gain votes and win elections. Here, Jonathan Hennika (his site here), considers recent events in the US in the context of 19th century America. He explains how immigrants from Ireland and Germany led to fear and the rise of the American Party – or Know Nothing Movement.

An image representing the American Know Nothing Movement. 1850s.

An image representing the American Know Nothing Movement. 1850s.

In 1958 for three-bits you were able to purchase "Masters of Deceit" by J. Edgar Hoover, the Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.  The book is currently available at various booksellers and online. In explaining Communist Discipline, he wrote, "Modern-day communism, in all its many ramifications, simply cannot be understood without a knowledge of Communist Discipline: how it is engendered, how it operates, how it tears out man's soul and makes him a tool of the Party.”[i]After defeating the Axis powers in the catastrophic war, a new/old threat emerged, Red Communism. The era of bomb shelters and duck and cover, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, McCarthy and Nixon, and Alger Hiss and the Pumpkin Papers. Korea ended in a stalemate, and something was brewing with the French in Indo-China. Americans were afraid.

According to J. Edgar Hoover, this was the threat America faced, "To make the United States a communist nation is the ambition of every Party member, regardless of position or rank. He constantly works to make this dream a reality, to steal your rights, liberties, and property. Even though he lives in the United States, he is a supporter of a foreign power, espousing an alien line of thought. He is a conspirator against his country."[ii]

Many questions surround the legitimacy of the 2016 elections and the current political climate in America. Regardless, we are still a scared nation, whether it be from a terrorist attack, a mass shooting, or just everyday life in poverty-stricken America. When we vote, that fear is present. We elect leaders whom we believe will take care of us. In the television show The West Wing, the character of Josh Lyman explains to an aide how the electorate makes their choice at the polls: “When voters want a national daddy, someone to be tough and strong and defend the country, they vote Republican. When they want a mommy, someone to give them jobs, health care the policy equivalent of matzah ball soup, they vote Democratic.”[iii] Researchers at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst studied the impact of fear and anger in political information processing.[iv] They found “feelings of anger may promote voting for candidates who are well recognized, regardless of their beliefs on issues. However, fear may encourage individuals to vote for candidates whose positions on specific issues are congruent with their own, thus leading to more thoughtful, meaningful, and self-relevant choices.”[v]

At the height of the 2016 election cycle, Time magazine’s political correspondent, Molly Ball, published an article in The Atlantic. The title of her article: “Donald Trump and the Politics of Fear.”[vi] In it, she wrote: Fear and anger are often cited in tandem as the sources of Trump's particular political appeal, so frequently paired that they become a refrain: fear-and-anger, anger-and-fear. But fear is not the same as anger; it is a unique political force. Its ebbs and flows through American political history have pulled on elections, reordering and destabilizing the electoral landscape.”[vii]

It is with that premise in mind that I plan to write on the use of fear in politics, in particular, the “fear of the other.” The other being whomever the politicians need to target to arouse fear and anger. I will work through this examination in chronological order; examining various political campaigns, parties, and movements for their use of fear and treatment of the other. I will demonstrate how the use of fear impacts the electorate.

 

The First Immigration Crisis: The Irish and Emergence of the Know-Nothing Party

Most Americans recognize the words of the Declaration of Independence: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal." Patriarchal language aside, this was a fundamental tenet of the Founding Fathers. In contrast, thirteen years later, these same founders indicated that an African-American was 3/5th a person, for purposes of the decennial census.

This American Narrative, a nation founded on the principles of freedom and equality, was accepted as truth. The narrative makes false assumptions, using an English and Protestant-centric view. The everyday use of the English language as an amalgamating societal force aided the growth of the narrative. Enacting its first Naturalization Act in 1790, the United States accepted any white person into its citizenry. Estimates are that between 1790 and 1805 immigration to the United States averaged 6,000 new citizens a year. The Napoleonic Wars and the War of 1812 tampered down new influxes of Americans. The first rise in immigration began in 1815, leading the Congress to enact the Steerage Act, in 1819, requiring all ships to keep detailed records of passengers and offer better transportation conditions.[viii]

Immigration to America peaked in 1854 at 428,000, with Irish and Germans escaping adverse agricultural conditions. [ix] For these immigrants, their first views of America were the port cities they disembarked from. The first test of the American Narrative began in that time and place. "In the communities where the new Irish Catholic immigrants settled, many wondered whether their presence would affect American cultural identity. Natives also expressed fears and doubts regarding the allegiance of this group to American democratic values and institutions. Finally, they feared that these newcomers were being manipulated by corrupt city politicians, who were more concerned about votes than inculcating the principles of democracy in the new immigrants." [x]

 

The Order of United Americans/Know-Nothing Party

Thomas R. Whitney, son of a New York silversmith, is a little-known name to most Americans. A politician and a journalist, Whitney was a moving force in the Order of United Americans (OUA), a nativist fraternity. Founded in 1846, the OUA, was an amalgam of former Whigs, Free-soilers, and nativists who opposed slavery and were concerned with the growing power of the foreign-born. Initially, a secret society (members were instructed to answer that they knew nothing about the organization if questioned), by the early 1850s knowledge of them was common. Whitney served as editor starting in 1851 of the Republic, “a monthly magazine of American Literature, Politics, and Art that the rapidly expanding OUA initiated, sponsored, and distributed. Whitney's standing in the OUA was confirmed in 1853 when he began a second term as grand sachem. In 1856 Whitney crowned his writing career with the publication of a nearly four-hundred-page Know-Nothing bible, A Defence of the American Policy." [xi]

Economic development, a homogeneous national culture, active government, and opposition to the burgeoning women's rights movement was at the heart of OUA beliefs. The nuclear family was essential and required female and filial subordination. An active government was committed to economic and cultural development. It did not offer legislation attacking societal inequality. Whitney opposed maximum hours laws, public aid to the elderly, as well as a homestead bill that proposed to grant federal lands to those without. "Government’s proper task, Whitney argued, was to shore up the foundations of existing society, serve its needs, and advance its general interests."[xii]

To Whitney and the rest of the OUA, foreign-born nationals were not reliable conservatives and would not support the American Narrative. The OUA was threatened by the new peasants, craft workers, and unskilled laborers emigrating to the United States. They did not have the proper political experience. They had the wrong acculturation. The threat to the United States came in two forms: Roman Catholics and Radicals.

 

IRISH NEED NOT APPLY

According to the Library of Congress, nearing one-third of those immigrating to the United States between 1830 and 1860 were Irish Catholics.[xiii]

An Anti-Catholic fervor swept the nation. One conspiracy theory postulated the Catholic Church was behind the influx of Irish. The Irish also represented a greater fear for the OUA; they did not own property, so they were corruptible, irresponsible, and ignorant. The OUA used propaganda that the Irish were uneducated, politically unaware and easy to manipulate to attract men (i.e.voters) to the OUA. Voters were scared that the corruptible immigrants would prevent "good men" from governing. [xiv]

There was also a fear of radicalism, as Europe was undergoing its transformation in the 1840s. A riot between striking Irish dock workers and strikebreakers exemplified this radicalism. The political upheaval of 1848 added to the fear of newly arrived citizens. Some of the radical ideas were coming out of Germany; thus German emigres were marked as targets. In speaking of these working-class immigrants, Whitney said they were "carriers of a deadly plague--Red Republicanism." [xv]

The political wing of the OUA, the American Party, had strong showings in the elections of 1852 and 1854. The American Party drew most of its support from New York, Massachusetts, and Pennsylvania. The 1855 Congressional session started with 43 members of the American Party. Their candidate for President in 1856 won 21% of the vote.[xvi]

The leaders of the American Party were men who had never voted and defectors of the Whig Party. They promised to take power away from the political machines, to "drain the swamp," as it were. They proposed a direct primary voting system and required candidates for office to be "fresh from the people-not professional, no politicians." As a result, most, American Party candidates were inexperienced and incompetent.[xvii]

America, then as in now, was a nation in crises. The people, the voters, were scared. There were more Irish, Germans, and other Europeans coming to America. The revolts in Europe in 1848 added to the influx. The uneducated immigrants added to the population of the emerging cities. Soon, ghettos would appear. As the towns grew so did their political machines. These events added up to a threat against the traditional American narrative cherished by Thomas Whitney and others like him. They seized upon the inherent fear of the other in trying to preserve the American Narrative, never knowing they were altering it by their use of fear.

To be continued.

 

What do you think of the article? Let us know below.

You can read more of Jonathan’s work at Portable Historianwww.portablehistorian.com.

 

[i] J. Edgar Hoover, Masters of Deceit, (NY, 1958), 163

[ii] Ibid., 4

[iii]  Elie Attie, “The Mommy Problem,” The West Wing, (2005) https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=the-west-wing&episode=s07e02

[iv] Michael T. Parker and Linda M. Isbell, “How I Vote Depends on How I Feel: The Differential Impact of Anger and Fear on Political Information Processing,” Psychological Science, 21 (April 2010), 548.

[v] Ibid., 549

[vi] Molly Ball, “Donald Trump and the Politics of Fear,” The Atlantic, September 2, 2016, 1.

[vii] Ibid.

[viii] The Statute of Liberty- Elis Island, "Immigration Timeline," https://www.libertyellisfoundation.org/immigration-timeline#1790

[ix] Raymond L. Cohn, "Nativism and the End of the Mass Migration of the 1840s and 1850s," The Journal of Economic History, 60 (June 01), 361.

[x] Jose E. Vega, "Cultural Pluralism and American Identity: A Response to Foner's Freedom and Hakim's Heroes," OAH Magazine of History, 20 (July 2006), 19.

[xi] Bruce Levine, "Conservatism, Nativism, and Slavery: Thomas R. Whitney and the Origins of the Know-Nothing Party," The Journal of American History, (Sept 2001), 461-463.

[xii] Ibid. 464-466

[xiii] https://www.loc.gov/teachers/classroommaterials/presentationsandactivities/presentations/immigration/irish2.html

[xiv] Levine, 468

[xv] Ibid., 469

[xvi] Encyclopedia Britannica, "Know-Nothing Party," https://www.britannica.com/topic/Know-Nothing-party; Michael F. Hot, "The Politics of Impatience: The Origins of Know-Nothingism," The Journal of American History, 60 (September 1973) 311.

[xvii] Ibid., 311, 318,319

Cornelia Hancock was born in 1840, and by 1863 she was ready to help look after the sick in the US Civil War. Here, Matt Goolsby explains how Cornelia broke boundaries and helped many people during the Civil War and after.

20180812 Cornelia_Hancock_civil_war_nurse.jpg

From Quaker to Volunteer Nurse

Life in mid-nineteenth century America was vastly different to today. The news was relayed either by messenger via horseback, by train, or over telegraph wires. The northern states had more than 90% of the established infrastructure of the day versus the paltry facilities of the South.

Unsurprisingly, there was a heightened interest in news of the Civil War and especially of the battle of Gettysburg since the nation’s sons were involved.

Pennsylvania took center stage in July of 1863.

Driven by a desire to fulfill her life’s purpose, Cornelia Hancock knew that she needed to be involved.

Cornelia Hancock came from a very unassuming Quaker family. She had been born on February 8, 1840, at Hancock’s Bridge in Salem, New Jersey. Many Quakers had fled England due to religious persecution and had wanted only to live a quiet life and practice their religion. Their unique lifestyle even caused persecution to occur in early New England history, but had subsided with the Tolerance Act of 1689.

The Hancock family had abolitionist leanings due to their Quaker principles and believed that the nationwide conflict was just. Personally affected, Cornelia’s brother had enlisted in the Union Army, which motivated her to help in some significant way.

Cornelia’s older sister had been employed at the US mint in Philadelphia and later married a Quaker doctor named, Henry T. Child, also from Philadelphia, who felt strongly about caring for wounded soldiers.

Dr. Child knew of Cornelia’s desire to get involved and so requested she travel to Gettysburg to help relieve some of the pain the wounded and dying were going through.

Her arrival in Gettysburg established her role as a ‘Volunteer’ nurse as most of the nurses or assistants of the day had no formal medical training. Nurses of the day were called ‘Volunteer’ and were recruited as plain women over the age of thirty-five who were required to wear unassuming and non-adorning apparel. They were also instructed to wear nothing in their hair and forego jewelry so as not to be a distraction and to also not become a victim of men’s advances. This had been outlined by Dorothea Dix, the Army Superintendent of Nurses. Cornelia spurned these requirements being only 23 at the time and proceeded with grim determination. She made it to the battle site on July 6, 1863 to ghastly conditions.

Most of the dead had remained on the battlefield in the blistering summer sun for three days after the battle ended. This caused the bodies to quickly decompose, which created an unbearable stench that hang heavy in the air.

After losing the battle, Robert E Lee had fled the Union Army with his forces leaving 5000 of his Confederate troops behind. This only added to the misery experienced after the conflict ended.

Upon entering 3rd Division, 2nd Corps Field Hospital on July 7, 1863, Cornelia wrote that the wounded had been separated into differing levels of triage: those who had severe head wounds and were deemed ‘hopeless’, those who had a slim chance of survival, and those who were recovering. Her first official duties were to write down last requests to family members from those too weak to do it themselves who would soon become the ‘beloved dead’.

 

From Volunteer Nurse to Caregiver

As Cornelia quickly matured in her work at the Field Hospitals, she became a strong advocate for the men in her care. There were severe shortages of basic supplies, especially bedding and bandages. Her writings reflect the desire to meet these basic needs as she solicited family and friends for funds to procure what was essential for the care of the wounded.

The amazing aspect of Cornelia’s personality that comes out in her writings is that she was truly moved by the misery surrounding her and yet the sadness of the situation never seemed to paralyze her to the needs of others. These experiences would refine as well as clarify what her future life’s work would become.

As the war progressed and the suffering continued, she would jokingly refer to the ‘Copperheads’ as being worthy of death because of the lack of support they gave to the Union cause. This coming from a nurse who saw the best and worst in humanity shows the paradox of the experience of war and life itself. 

‘Copperhead’ was the term given to a group of Union Democrat politicians who were vociferous in their criticism of the war and wanted an immediate truce with the Confederates of the Southern United States. It was given to them by Republicans who likened them to a snake of the same name. Not an endearing term or moniker.

Another aspect of Cornelia’s personality that comes out is the love of her family and yet, in the resistance to become what they would have preferred. She had been raised with loving but strict Quaker principles. Her family would have preferred she take a more ‘prudent’ direction with her life. However, she chose to care for those who she felt needed her most. This is very evident in her letters.

One such letter shows the depth of compassion she has for both the wounded and their families and friends: “I have eight wall tents of amputated men. The tents of the wounded I look right out on - it is a melancholy sight, but you have no idea how soon one gets used to it. Their screams of agony do not make as much an impression on me now as the reading of this letter will on you. The most painful task we have here, is entertaining the friends who come from home and see their friends all mangled up”, written Sunday, July 26th, 1863 at 3rd Division-2nd Army Corp Hospital, Gettysburg, PA.

Cornelia had the innate ability to see the greater purpose in her service to others. Her desire to provide for the physical needs of the men as well as their emotional comfort is on plain display in many of her letters. When she speaks of men who are about to die from mortal wounds to those who would cry because they were being transferred to another hospital away from her care, you can hear her compassion and empathy for them.

 

From Caregiver to Lifelong Advocate

In the final two years of the Civil War, Cornelia spent her time moving to different locations as the need arose. During the latter part of October, 1863, she moved from Philadelphia to Washington D.C. to care for the ‘Contraband’.

The escaped slaves or those who sided with the Union Army during the Civil War were referred to as ‘Contrabands’. Cornelia also used the term in her letters to describe the families of those who had also escaped with them.

Conditions for those termed ‘Contraband’, were dismal at best. It was after witnessing the effects of slavery and poverty that she felt strongly that something had to be done to improve their lives.

Her first efforts were to solicit family for funds to purchase clothing for those who were the poorest of the poor. She also witnessed firsthand the brutal effects of what many a slaveowner had wielded on their slaves.

One such situation occurred when she described two slaves to her mother in a letter dated, November 15th, 1863, Contraband Hospital, Washington D.C.: “There were two very fine looking slaves arrived here from Louisiana, one of them had his master’s name branded on his forehead, and with him he brought all the instruments of torture that he wore at different times during 39 years of very hard slavery.” 

She goes on to describe the heinous instruments used to keep slaves from comfort and freedom. These experiences along with her witnessing what the ‘Contraband’ had for food and clothing only solidified her resolve to do what she could for the least of these, her brethren.

As the war continued, Cornelia would transfer to several different locations. They included: Brandy Station and Fredericksburg, Virginia, White House Landing, City Point, Virginia, and finally to where the war ended: Richmond, Virginia.

After the war ended, Cornelia spent the next ten years in which she established the Laing School in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina whose mission was to educate former slaves and to inspire them to become good citizens through high ideals.

The remainder of Cornelia’s life was spent working on behalf of the poor and ministering to those who had no advocate. Her strength of character and purpose is demonstrated in the many letters written to family that document her experiences at Gettysburg and throughout the American experience during the Civil War. She was and continues to be a national treasure.

 

What do you think of the article? Let us know below.

Finally, the next article in the series is on Clara Barton, another US Civil War-era nurse. Clara Barton also played a key role in the formation of the American Red Cross - article available here.

References

Henrietta Stratton Jaquette - Editor, “Letters of a Civil War Nurse: Cornelia Hancock 1863-1865”, University of Nebraska Press, 1998, Foreword and 1-32.

“News and the Civil War”, http://americanantiquarian.org/earlyamericannewsmedia/exhibits/show/news-and-the-civil-war

“Cornelia Hancock – National Park Service”, https://www.nps.gov/people/cornelia-hancock.htm

“Definition of Copperhead (Politician)”, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Copperhead_(politics)

“Definition of Contraband (American Civil War)”, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Contraband_(American_Civil_War)

“Definition of Quakers”, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quakers

“Laing School – Mount Pleasant, South Carolina”, http://www.scencyclopedia.org/sce/entries/laing-school/

Posted
AuthorGeorge Levrier-Jones

Aaron Burr's life has always tangled itself in controversy. From killing the first Secretary of the Treasury and key figure in the Federalist Party, Alexander Hamilton, to being the defendant of the United States' first treason case, Aaron Burr was well known for a lot of questionable decisions and bad luck. However, none of his decisions were as objectively manipulative, callous, and greedy as purposefully letting New York City suffer with tainted water for the sake of building a bank. Haley Booker-Lauridson explains.

An early 19th century painting of Aaron Burr.

An early 19th century painting of Aaron Burr.

The New York Water System

Back when New York was New Amsterdam, the water sources were from nearby ponds, streams, and wells, and continued that way for many years. Without a waterworks system, the city's waste ran into the same water it drank from, and distributing drinking water to various areas of the city proved difficult. This troubled Christopher Colles, an Irish engineer and inventor who emigrated to Philadelphia in 1771, just four short years before the Revolution.

In 1775, he began organizing a project he proposed, constructing a water distribution system in the heart of New York. This system used a steam engine pump to extract water from various wells into a reservoir, which would then distribute the water throughout the city in pipes. However, the Revolutionary War came to the city a year later and the project had to be put on hold, and the British soldiers soon destroyed what was left of the fledgling water system.

Though he made several attempts at creating various waterways and different systems in the newly formed United States, none of his projects came to fruition. The water in New York was left in a state of rapid pollution. Without a way to draw clean water, the citizens of New York City drank water steeped in animal, human, and industrial waste. Water distribution was another problem; fires could not consistently be quelled without a distribution system that could quickly get the water to the flames.

With a population of 60,515 people in the city, the waters became increasingly dangerous. By 1798, up to 2,000 people died of yellow fever, which doctors attributed to the filthy water people were drinking. By that time, New Yorkers desperately needed a plan to bring clean water to the city.

 

"Pure and Wholesome Water"

Nearly 24 years after Colles proposed a water distribution system, a bill to secure water from the Bronx River was drafted and sent to the New York State Assembly in 1799.

Aaron Burr, State Assemblyman and Democratic-Republican, worked to convince the Assembly to let the city and state use a private company for their water. While Democratic-Republicans were the main supporters of the bill, they received help from an unlikely ally, Alexander Hamilton.

Hamilton campaigned for the Federalist Assemblymen to reach across the aisle. As New York had become his home when he emigrated to America in 1772, it is easy to see why he might want to turn the water bill into a bipartisan decision. The water was terribly polluted and toxic, and Aaron Burr had partnered with him on several occasions, including working as defense attorneys in the first murder trial in the United States. Having trusted Burr and having believed in the cause for a waterworks system, Hamilton convinced his fellow Federalists to back the creation of the Manhattan Water Company.

What Hamilton, and many Assemblymen, did not know was that Burr, just before submitting the bill for its final approval, slipped in a clause allowing the company to use "surplus capital" however it chose, as long as it followed state and federal law. The bill passed through with this clause on April 2, 1799, and the Manhattan Company was created to supply New York with "pure and wholesome water."

This small, unassuming clause transformed what was intended to be a water system for New York into a bank. Burr intended to establish a bank all along. He and other Democratic-Republicans inherently distrusted the First Bank of the United States and its branch in New York, as it was linked with Federalist politics. They feared discrimination in receiving credit and loans, and also desired the power to control campaign finance with their own bank. They wanted to establish a bank manned by their own political party, and schemed to use the city's water crisis to manufacture one right under the Federalists' noses.

 

The Manhattan Water Company's Legacy

By September 1, 1799, the Bank of the Manhattan Company opened, eventually becoming the oldest branch of JP Morgan Chase, and remains a financial institution today.

While the Manhattan Water Company was ostensibly a front for a bank, it did provide the city's first waterworks system. Shoddily put together, it constructed a cheap, crude network of wooden water mains throughout the city, by coring out yellow pine logs for pipes and fastening them together with iron bands.

The system was sub-par at best. It froze during the winter and the tree roots easily pierced through the log pipes, causing terrible back-ups. Even when the system worked, the people suffered through pitifully low water pressure. And, despite having permission to get clean water that ran down the Bronx River, Burr chose to source water from the polluted sources the city tried to get away from.

The Manhattan Water Company continued laying wooden pipes in the 1820s, even though other U.S. cities began using iron clad pipes. It remained the only drinking water supplier until 1842, leaving people with unreliable and bad water for over forty years.

As the water system floundered and the bank flourished, Aaron Burr experienced very little but misfortune from then on. Hamilton made it his duty to keep Burr out of influential public offices, famously campaigning against Burr during the 1800 election, and later in New York's gubernatorial race in 1804. Hamilton often negatively featured Burr in his newspaper, the New York Post. He likely would have continued had he not been fatally wounded in a duel with the man in July of 1804. Burr faced political exile that solidified when he was tried for treason in 1807, eventually fleeing to Europe for several years before returning to the U.S. and living as a perpetual debtor until his death in 1836.

 

What do you think of Aaron Burr? Let us know below.

References

Beatrice G. Reubens, “Burr, Hamilton and the Manhattan Company. Part I: Gaining the Charter,” Political Science Quarterly, LXXII (December, 1957), 578–607.

Beatrice G. Reubens, “Burr, Hamilton and the Manhattan Company. Part II: Launching a Bank,” Political Science Quarterly, LXXIII (March, 1958), 100–25.

“New York City (NYC) Yellow Fever Epidemic - 1795 to 1804” http://www.baruch.cuny.edu/nycdata/disasters/yellow_fever.html

"The History of the Water Mains in New York City" https://www1.nyc.gov/html/dep/html/drinking_water/wood_water_pipes_history.shtml.

New York Laws, 22nd Sess., Ch. LXXXIV.

With the Union’s Army of the Potomac finally defeating Robert E. Lee, you’d think the 1863 Battle of Gettysburg would have elated Abraham Lincoln. Instead, for him, the battle produced a harvest of bitterness and disappointment. Lamont Wood, whose book Lincoln's Planner: A Unique Look at the Civil War Through the President's Daily Activities (Amazon US | Amazon UK) was recently published, explains why this American Civil War battle produced such feelings.

A depiction of the 1863 Battle of Gettysburg. Hand-colored lithograph by Currier and Ives.

A depiction of the 1863 Battle of Gettysburg. Hand-colored lithograph by Currier and Ives.

After two years of indecisive yet bloody warfare, Lincoln glimpsed victory in July 1863. Out West, a Union army was besieging Vicksburg and it looked like the Union would soon control the Mississippi River. Another Union army was advancing in central Tennessee, while on the coast the Union siege of Charleston looked promising. With the addition of Lee’s defeat at Gettysburg, surely victory was within grasp.

But there was no follow-through.

As reflected in his collected wartime papers (and recounted in “Lincoln’s Planner”), as the battle unfolded on July 1 and 2, 1863, the president spent a lot of his time in the War Department’s telegraph office, reading dispatches from the front as they arrived.

 

Independence Day

On July 4, Independence Day, a Saturday, and the day after Pickett’s Charge, both sides at Gettysburg stood in place during the morning, Lincoln put out a press release congratulating his army, asking that, “He whose will, not ours, should ever be done, be everywhere remembered and reverenced with profoundest gratitude.” That night he helped mount a fireworks display at the White House.

But that was as upbeat as things got.

Meanwhile, torrential rains began falling at Gettysburg and Lee began pulling his army out of Pennsylvania. From out of left field, the Confederate vice president, Alexander H. Stephens showed up under a flag of truce at Fortress Monroe, asking to come to Washington to talk to Lincoln, supposedly to discuss prisoner exchanges. (Presumably, Stephens’ real motivation was to be on hand should the Administration become favorable to peace negotiations following Confederate successes in Pennsylvania.)

On July 5 (Sunday) Lincoln attended a Cabinet meeting where they discussed Stephens’ request, which Lincoln discounted. Lincoln (accompanied by his 10-year-old son Tad) then visited wounded general (and Republican friend and all-round scandal magnet) Dan Sickles, who had been evacuated to Washington after losing a leg at Gettysburg.

Back at the telegraph office, Lincoln saw a report about a Union cavalry raid the previous day that destroyed a Confederate pontoon bridge across the Potomac at Falling Waters, West Virginia. Lincoln bypassed the chain of command and directly telegraphed Gen. William French asking if the rain-swollen Potomac could be forded. The answer: no.

The enticing implication was that Lee was stuck on the north side of the Potomac, unable to retreat to Virginia, and subject to momentary destruction by the pursuing Federals – a development that could wrap up the war.

 

Too Quiet on the Potomac

The next day (Monday, July 6) Lincoln attended a morning Cabinet meeting and convinced them to ignore Stephens—if the Confederate vice president really wanted to talk about prisoner exchanges, there were existing channels for that.

And then Lincoln’s hopes were shattered by the arrival of Gen. Herman Haupt, the chief railroad engineer of the Union army, who pulled into town from Gettysburg on one of his trains and rushed to the White House. He told Lincoln that he feared Gen. George Meade, commander of the Army of the Potomac, was going to let Lee get away. Haupt had spoken with Meade Saturday and heard Meade say that his army had nearly been defeated and needed rest. Meade noted that since Lee did not have a pontoon train his army would be stuck on the north side of the Potomac, implying that an immediate pursuit wasn’t necessary. Haupt told him that the Confederates could throw together a temporary bridge by tearing down buildings for lumber, but Meade wasn’t impressed.

Lincoln then spent the afternoon back in the telegraph office, and what he saw confirmed the fears raised by Gen. Haupt. He returned to the White House about 7 and wrote to Gen. Henry Halleck, his chief of staff, complaining that the messages he saw indicated a policy of herding the enemy forces across the river rather than trapping and destroying them. “You know I did not like the phrase… ‘Drive the invaders from our soil,’” Lincoln said.

The next morning (Tuesday, July 7) Gen. Meade finally had his infantry march in pursuit of Lee. Lincoln was back in the telegraph office when notice arrived from Vicksburg of the Confederate surrender there on July 4. (Grant’s army did not have a direct telegraph connection with Washington.)

The city erupted into celebration and a crowd eventually gathered outside the White House demanding a speech. Lincoln made his longest-known off-the-cuff address, with themes he would re-use in the speech he gave four months later at Gettysburg, such as, “On the 4th the cohorts of those who opposed the declaration that all men are created equal turned tail and run.”

The day after (Wednesday, July 8) Gen. Meade’s infantry caught up with Lee’s cornered army, but there was no major action. Lincoln was heard to complain that Gen. Meade is “as likely to capture the Man-in-the-Moon, as any part of Lee’s army.”

Thursday was equally frustrating, as Lincoln returned to the tasks of the Executive Branch, while things remained all quiet on the Potomac. Friday, the opposing armies probed each other, while Lincoln sent a telegram to an old friend back in Illinois, saying that the rumors were true and Lee had indeed been defeated at Gettysburg.

Saturday (July 11) Gen. Meade reported that he had decided to attack the trapped Confederates, and Lincoln’s mood was seen to improve.

Then, Sunday, Gen. Meade pushed the attack back a day, saying he needed time for reconnaissance. “Too late!” Lincoln groaned when he read the message.

On Monday, July 13, Lincoln sent a thank you letter to Gen. Grant for his recent victory at Vicksburg, noting that he had been worried about Grant’s plan to operate away from the Mississippi and take the city from the land side, but “you were right and I was wrong.” (Grant took a month to respond.)

 

 

Getting away

That night, Lee’s army slipped across the falling Potomac.

The next day, Lincoln wrote a thank you letter to Gen. Meade, as he had done to Gen. Grant. But the tone was radically different. “I am very – very – grateful to you for the magnificent success you gave the cause of the country… I do not believe you appreciate the magnitude of the misfortune involved in Lee's escape. He was within your easy grasp, and to have closed upon him would, in connection with our other late successes, have ended the war. As it is, the war will be prolonged indefinitely... Your golden opportunity is gone, and I am distressed immeasurably because of it.”

He filed the letter away, and never sent it.

As Lincoln feared, the war did drag on, lasting nearly two more years. The main impact of Gettysburg was that Lee would never again launch a major offensive.

 

What do you think of this article? Let us know below.

 

Lamont Wood is a journalist and history writer. He has been freelancing for more than three decades in the history, high-tech, and industrial fields. He has sold more than six hundred magazine feature articles and twelve books. He and his wife, Dr. Louise O’Donnell, reside in San Antonio, Texas. His book, Lincoln's Planner: A Unique Look at the Civil War Through the President's Daily Activities (Amazon US | Amazon UK), is available here.

As the nineteenth century began, both the United States and France were in transition. The American Revolution only officially ended in 1783, and now the president-helmed United States was forging an identity that rejected the courtly atmosphere of its European counterparts. Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, France was moving away from the republicanism of its own revolution. Approximately twenty years after the executions of King Louis XVI and Queen Marie-Antoinette, France was poised to become an empire under Napoleon Bonaparte. Amidst these changes, a scandal occurred when Napoleon’s youngest brother, Jérôme, surprised the world by marrying Miss Elizabeth Patterson of Baltimore, Maryland.

Christine Caccipuoti explains.

A triple portrait of Elizabeth Patterson Bonaparte. By Gilbert Stuart, 1804.

A triple portrait of Elizabeth Patterson Bonaparte. By Gilbert Stuart, 1804.

Marital Bliss?

When eighteen-year old Elizabeth wed nineteen-year old Jérôme on Christmas Eve of 1803, few people other than the bride and groom approved. She was the daughter of a well-off businessman, but despite being lauded as the “Belle of Baltimore” she loathed the newfound United States’ lack of sophistication and glamour. He was only in Maryland because he decided to take a detour before returning to France after an unsuccessful stint in the Caribbean with the French Navy. After their respective social lives brought them into contact, their courtship was a whirlwind, and the starry-eyed pair were engaged within months of meeting.

Elizabeth’s father did not trust Jérôme and French diplomats in the United States warned that Napoleon hated the match, but the couple did not care. They allowed Elizabeth’s father to draw up documents requiring Jérôme to defend his marriage to the best of his ability should Napoleon object and had their nuptials conducted by a Catholic clergyman to underscore its legitimacy through religion. To Elizabeth and Jérôme, marrying was the important part. Acceptance, they believed, would soon follow.

The newlyweds enjoyed an extravagant honeymoon that established them as newspaper celebrities, with Elizabeth immediately turning heads after she adopted French fashions. It wasn’t long before word of the union reached Napoleon, who was about to be crowned Emperor of the French. What little respect Napoleon had for Jérôme evaporated and he made his opinion known by banning French ships from allowing Elizabeth aboard. They were still not deterred. By the time they managed to reach Europe in 1805, Jérôme’s brother was formally Emperor Napoleon I and there was an added complication: Elizabeth was pregnant.

Aware of his responsibilities, Jérôme went to France to win over his brother while Elizabeth traveled to England, a country hostile to Napoleon that welcomed the opportunity to show kindness to a woman he shunned. During this separation, Elizabeth gave birth to their son, boldly named Jérôme Napoleon, who went by the nickname “Bo”.

Elizabeth waited, but Jérôme never sent for her. Because of his unacceptable marriage, he was not among the family members elevated to the title of prince, and this greatly upset him. Although he wrote loving letters to Elizabeth, once Napoleon told him that he would be cut off forever if he remained married, Jérôme abandoned his wife. A shattered Elizabeth had no choice but to take her baby home to Maryland.

 

Unhappily Ever After

Napoleon sought to annul Jérôme’s marriage but the Pope denied the request. Undaunted, Napoleon had the French ecclesiastical courts declare it void and decided that was good enough. As far as he was concerned Jérôme was free again. Quickly, Napoleon arranged a politically advantageous marriage for him to Princess Catherine of Württemberg and named him King of Westphalia, two moves done to cement his growing influence in Europe. In stark contrast, Elizabeth was still legally married to Jérôme in the eyes of the United States and several years passed before she gained a divorce. Following this, numerous suitors sought her hand, but neither they nor a pension from Napoleon made up for what she lost.

It wasn’t until Napoleon lost power in 1815 that Elizabeth was able to finally experience the pleasures of European life. After all, with the Bonapartes defeated, no one could stop her. She and Bo spent years traveling the continent. They even visited Rome, where part of the Bonaparte family resided after their expulsion from France. This enabled Bo to meet not only his grandmother, but also his father and half-siblings. It is possible that Elizabeth too saw Jérôme but the sole surviving story indicates only that they were once in the same gallery, but did not speak. Elizabeth harbored hopes that Bo would make an illustrious marital match in Europe, perhaps even to one of his Bonaparte cousins, but it would not come to pass. Instead he returned home and married an American woman with whom he later had two children, Jérôme and Charles. Bo’s decision not to pursue what Elizabeth saw as his rightful place in European society broke her heart almost as much as her initial divorce and severely tarnished their mother-son relationship.

Their contact with the Bonapartes continued. In the 1850s when Napoleon III (who was Bo’s cousin, as his father Louis was yet another of Napoleon and Jérôme’s brothers) made France an empire again, he welcomed Bo as part of the family. Jérôme, however, did not. When he died in 1860, Bo was not included in his will. Elizabeth faced one last disappointment when her battle to have Bo recognized as one of Jérôme’s heirs failed.

Once again Elizabeth returned to Maryland devastated. Although she made lucrative financial investments, her personal relationship with her son and his family was strained. The wounds of her youth never healed and her bitterness manifested in the composition of pieces like Dialogues of the Dead, which placed her disapproving father and scoundrel ex-husband together in hell. After such a disappointing life, it is only fitting that following her death in April of 1879, at the age of 94, it was decided her tomb should read, “After life’s fitful fever, she sleeps well.”

 

An American Legacy

Elizabeth may have disliked the United States, but her grandson Charles lived to serve it. In the 1890s, he met future President of the United States Theodore “Teddy” Roosevelt when both men were involved in reform work. When Roosevelt took office in 1901, Charles went along with him, serving as Secretary of the Navy then Attorney General and earning a reputation as Roosevelt’s troubleshooter. His most significant achievement was creating a force solely to carry out investigations at the behest of the Department of Justice. This group later adopted a name that remains recognizable today: the Federal Bureau of Investigation, or FBI. Whether or not Elizabeth would have been proud of her grandson’s enduring contribution to the American government is impossible to say because while yes, he rose to an impressive height, he did so in the wrong country.

 

What do you think of the article? Let us know below.

 

Christine Caccipuoti is a New York-based historian and received both her BA and MA in history from Fordham University. In her position as Assistant Producer of the podcast Footnoting History (FootnotingHistory.com), she serves as the resident Napoleonic historian and is the person behind its twitter account (@historyfootnote). Her personal website and blog can be found at ChristineCaccipuoti.com.

Sources

Carol Berkin, Wondrous Beauty: The Life and Adventures of Elizabeth Patterson Bonaparte, New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2014.

Charlene M. Boyer Lewis, Elizabeth Patterson Bonaparte: An American Aristocrat in the Early Republic. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2012.

Paul-Napoléon Calland, “Jerome Bonaparte Biography”, Irène Delage (trans), The Fondation Napoléon, 2006. (https://www.napoleon.org/en/history-of-the-two-empires/biographies/bonaparte-jerome/)

Lewis L. Gould, “Bonaparte, Charles Joseph”, American National Biography, February 2000. (https://doi-org.avoserv2.library.fordham.edu/10.1093/anb/9780198606697.article.0500081)

---, “Bonaparte, Elizabeth Patterson”, American National Biography, February 2000. (https://doi-org.avoserv2.library.fordham.edu/10.1093/anb/9780198606697.article.2000085)

Desmond Seward, Napoleon's Family, New York: Viking, 1986.

Attorney General: Charles Bonaparte, via The United States Department of Justice (https://www.justice.gov/ag/bio/bonaparte-charles-joseph)

Brief History of the FBI, via The Federal Bureau of Investigation (https://www.fbi.gov/history/brief-history)

While there has yet to be a female president, first ladies have been important in shaping many presidencies and their policies. In the start of a new series, Kate Murphy Schaefer goes back to the late 18th century and considers the importance of Abigail Adams to America and Founding Father John Adams.

A painting of Abigail Adams by Gilbert Stuart.

A painting of Abigail Adams by Gilbert Stuart.

With the recent passing of former first lady Barbara Bush, Americans are once again allowed to indulge in a favorite pastime: memorializing and waxing rhapsodic about their most public citizens. This is second only to the most popular pastime: ridiculing those same citizens for what they did and did not do. Presidents are elected; to some degree they understand and accept the level of scrutiny they will be under for the rest of their lives. First ladies are, as Barbara Bush’s daughter-in-law Laura said, “elected by one man,” but have to live under the same microscope as their husbands.[1]

A first lady must be “a showman and a salesman, a clotheshorse and a publicity sounding board, with a good heart, and a real interest in the folks,” explained Lady Bird Johnson.[2] If any of those traits seem contradictory, that is the point. There are no set guidelines outlining a first lady’s role and duties, but Americans expect them to conform to expectations that change quickly and often. Within this White-House-shaped cage, they are judged for what they wore, said, and did, and also for what they did not wear, say, or do.

Still, first ladies are privileged because their words and actions are considered important enough to include in the historical record. For most of American history, women were expected to be silent observers as men shaped the world in which they lived. Their stories were beneath notice, and therefore ignored and forgotten. America’s earliest first ladies were considered important because they were connected to important men. Abigail Smith Adams, wife of President John Adams, provides an excellent example.

 

The Political “Pest”

Born in 1744, Abigail Smith was raised in a family that was politically aware and active. Her maternal grandfather, John Quincy, held several positions in the Massachusetts government and encouraged his daughter and granddaughters to keep abreast of what was going on in the world outside the home. She was not formally educated, but her correspondence demonstrates she was extremely well-read and had an agile, searching mind. “In an age when women were content to take a backseat to their husbands and keep their mouths shut,” wrote historian Cormac O’Brien, “Abigail gave free rein to her extraordinary intellect.”[3]

Abigail was most outspoken in her correspondence with husband John. When Adams left for Philadelphia for the Continental Congress in 1776, he left a very curious wife at home. Abigail “pestered the politicians for news” and asked her husband for updates in lengthy letters. “(T)ell me if you may where your Fleet are gone? What sort of Defence Virginia can make against our common Enemy? Whether it is situated as to make an able Defence?” she asked in a letter dated March 31, 1776.[4] She was a stalwart defender of the Revolution and her husband, and was emboldened by her husband’s respect for her views. One of her most famous letters encouraged her husband to “remember the ladies” in the drafting of the Declaration of Independence.

 

“Remember the Ladies”

                  “(I)n the new Code of Laws which I suppose it will be necessary for you to make I desire you would Remember the Ladies, and be more generous and favourable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power in the hands of the Husbands. Remember all Men could be tyrants if they could.”[5]

 

In three sentences, Adams set forth the radical idea that protection under the law also applied to women. Use of the word tyrant was deliberate and effective, recalling John Locke’s warning that “wherever law ends, tyranny begins.”[6] She intimated American men were no better than the British if they did not include the needs and opinions of women in the nation they created. She went so far as to predict women would “foment a Rebelion (sic)” if the new government did not grant them a voice, prompting John’s reply, “(a)s to your extraordinary Code of Laws, I cannot but laugh.”[7]

The female rebellion did not come to pass, but the Adams’ correspondence laid bare a distressing truth about the American experiment. Revolution created a new nation, but not a new society. Race, class, and gender narrowed the founders’ definition of who was entitled to the rights of life, liberty, and property. They overthrew the British colonial “tyrants” and took up the mantle themselves. “I have sometimes been ready to think that the Passion for Liberty cannot be Eaqually (sic) Strong in the Breasts of those who have been accustomed to deprive their fellow Creatures of theirs,” wrote Abigail.[8] These liberal views were exceptionally progressive during her time. It can be argued they were progressive two hundred years later as women campaigned for equal protection under the law with the Equal Rights Amendment.

Her opinions on women’s rights kept private, it was Abigail’s vocal support of her husband, that “tireless promoter of liberty and…abrasive pain in the ass,” that most influenced popular opinion of the first lady.[9] As Adams and Thomas Jefferson squared off in the 1790s, Abigail was often caught in the crossfire. Her perceived influence on the President was exaggerated and therefore useful to political adversaries. They had no problem remembering the lady, calling her “Mrs. President” behind her back and arguing behind closed doors that she had “queenly aspirations.”[10]

 

“My pen runs riot”

By 1797, Abigail well understood her position’s lack of privacy. “My pen runs riot. I forget that it must grow cautious and prudent. I fear I shall make a dull business when such restrictions are laid upon it.”[11] Her fear was unfounded as she most certainly did not find being first lady a “dull business.” She expressed relief to finally leave the public eye when her husband left office. She never fully left the limelight, however. The first lady became “first mother” upon the election of her son President John Quincy Adams, namesake of the grandfather who had inspired her so many years before.

Abigail Adams spoke at a time women were supposed to be silent, and was politically aware when women were supposed to look no further than home and hearth. Her mind and opinions were extraordinary, so we are lucky her words were preserved. We should not forget that she was included in the historical record because of her connection to a powerful man. Though Abigail was far from ornamental in life, historians rendered her so after death. As historians continue studying the founding of our nation, they must work to “remember the ladies,” understanding the roles women played could be both hidden and important. For every woman recorded in the history books, the names and contributions of thousands more were lost. Would including women’s stories fundamentally alter our historical understanding of the American Revolution and the Early Republic? Probably not. But remembering the ladies would add new life to a history too long seen as cut and dried.

 

What do you think of the article? Let us know below.

 

[1] Laura Bush quoted in Kate Anderson Bower, First Women: The Grace and Power of America’s Modern First Ladies (New York: Harper Collins, 2017), 7.

[2] Lady Bird Johnson quoted in Ibid, 4.

[3] Cormac O’Brien, Secret Lives of the First Ladies (Philadelphia: Quirk Books, 2005), 18.

[4] “Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 31 March - 5 April 1776,” Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive, Massachusetts Historical Society, https://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/doc?id=L17760331aa.

[5] Ibid.

[6] John Locke, “Chapter XVIII: Of Tyranny,” Two Treatises of Government, Book II, section 202.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid.

[9] O’Brien, 21.

[10] Ibid.

[11] “Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 29 January 1797,” Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive, Massachusetts Historical Society, https://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/doc?id=L17970129aa.

Sources Cited

Bower, Kate Anderson. First Women: The Grace and Power of America’s Modern First Ladies. New York: Harper Collins, 2017.

“Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 31 March - 5 April 1776,” Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive, Massachusetts Historical Society, https://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/doc?id=L17760331aa.

“Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 29 January 1797,” Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive, Massachusetts Historical Society, https://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/doc?id=L17970129aa.

Locke, John. Two Treatises of Government. (1689).

O’Brien, Cormac. Secret Lives of the First Ladies. Philadelphia: Quirk Books, 2005.

Posted
AuthorGeorge Levrier-Jones

The Battle of Paducah took place in March 1864 in Paducah, Kentucky – on the Ohio River. Here, David Pyle explains what happened during this American Civil War battle.

Jefferson Davis, the President of the Confederate States during the US Civil War.

Jefferson Davis, the President of the Confederate States during the US Civil War.

March of 1864, forces commanded by Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest had set out from Columbus, Mississippi with the objective of recruiting more fighters, obtaining needed supplies and harassing the enemy. The General had 3,000 men under his command as he made the trip, cutting through Western Kentucky.

Tensely waiting action on the Union side were some 665 blue coats under the command of Colonel Stephen G. Hicks. The soldiers had many reasons for nervousness, one being Forrest’s nearing army and another being stationed in the unsympathetic city of Paducah, Kentucky, which would just have soon seen the fort burned to the ground.

Making the Union forces even more unpopular with the locals was the First Kentucky Heavy Artillery Colored unit being stationed there. Backing up the Union troops were two gunboats on the Ohio River.

Among Forrest’s troops were soldiers from Paducah. They were quite familiar with the city. The Confederate general set up his headquarters in Mayfield, Kentucky 25 miles from Paducah on March 25, 1864. One of these men was Col. Albert P. Thompson; he and some others were assigned by Forrest to launch a raid on Paducah, taking what the Confederates needed and spreading alarm and confusion.

Colonel Thompson and a force of 1,800 troops quickly moved to Paducah. Thompson’s regiment was first to reach Paducah’s outer picket lines where they took several Union sentinels prisoner. One guard who refused to surrender was killed in an exchange of gunfire.

 

To engage in the open?

The Confederate troops continued on into Paducah capturing pickets as they advanced. About 3 p.m. Thompson’s forces reached 15th and Broadway in Paducah; from their mounts they watched as Union soldiers marched into Fort Anderson. Several Confederates voiced a desire to engage the opposition while they were out in the open, but were reminded that the raid’s purpose was to capture medical supplies and munitions and not for prisoners. All they could do was watch as Union forces secured themselves in the fort.

Still, the desire to storm the fort was strong in the Paducah natives who served the Confederate cause. An assault upon Fort Anderson was most inevitable.

General Forrest ordered a flag of truce be sent to Fort Anderson’s commander, Col. Hicks. Forrest decided the men from Paducah should be the ones to deliver the message. The troops had started forward, Company D in the lead, but they were overtaken by a courier with a change in orders that all but six should return. D Company’s Captain selected the first six men in his charge to deliver the message.

Forrest’s message read, “Colonel: Having a force amply sufficient to carry your works and reduce the place, and in order to avoid the unnecessary effusion of blood, I demand the surrender of the fort and troops, with all public property. If you surrender you shall be treated as prisoners of war, but if I have to storm your works, you may expect no quarter.”

While the message was being delivered, members of the Third and Seventh Kentucky regiments took their positions; the Eighth regiment ransacked the commissary stores.

Hick’s considered Forrest’s demand for surrender and replied, “Sir, I have this moment received yours of this instant, in which you demand the unconditional surrender of forces under my command. I can answer that I have been placed here by the government to defend this post, and in this as well as all other orders from my superiors, I feel it to be my duty as an honorable officer to obey. I must, therefore, respectfully decline surrendering as you may require.”

As the refusal was being delivered, the gunboats Peosta and Paw Paw began shelling the city. Many shells went over the Confederates’ heads, but the gunboat commanders lowered the guns and flying gravel picked up by cannonballs mingled with the hurling shells. The fire forced the withdrawal of General Abraham Buford’s regiment from the river’s edge.

Union gunboats ranged their fire up Paducah’s streets to clear it of cavalry. Three-inch shells pierced an old Maple tree in the city.

After three assaults against Fort Anderson Gen. Forrest issued a ceasefire order. Col. A.P. Thompson and his staff gathered near an officer. Thompson sat upon his horse talking with the men not too many blocks from his Paducah home.

 

Falling back

It was now nighttime in Paducah, and the Confederates were 500 feet from the fort, under fire from the gunboats.

Capt. D.E. Meyers was given the job of delivering messages to the Confederate colonels ordering them to fall back to the protection of some nearby houses. As he neared Thompson, a shell fired from a gunboat cannon struck the colonel, who fell from his horse. The injured horse bolted and ran half a block before falling dead.

The horse was buried where it had fallen, but Col. Thompson’s mangled body would lay till morning.

After Col. Thompson’s fall, Col. Ed Crossland assumed command. While ordering the men to fall back, he was hit by rifle fire, which wounded him in the right thigh. Sharpshooters swarmed down the street; nine succeeded in reaching a home.

The nine, including J.V. Greif, exchanged fire with the defenders of Fort Anderson from a distance of 100 feet.

 “Our Guns were never idle,” Greif was reported as having said. “Until the enemy succeeded in bringing to bear on our position a gun from another part of the fort.”

Greif was knocked down when a cannonball passed through the house, and an object smacked his jaw. The order came to evacuate from the house. Greif managed to recover and fled with his comrades.

Greif’s jaw stung so much from the object that he thought he might have been wounded. To Greif’s relief a fellow soldier assured him there was no injury.

 “There was a boy named Ewell Hord at my left side,” Greif recalled. “He asked me to load his weapon, I told him to load it himself, I was busy.” Grief added the boy said he couldn’t as his arm had been wounded, so Greif told him, “Go to the rear you fool, what better luck do you want? It gets you out of all this.”

Hord went off to the rear in tears.

Col. Crossland’s men entered a building that overlooked the fort. From the second floor his men opened fire on the fort and fire was returned, as one of the men in the window was killed by a solid shot to the chest.

As the Confederates withdrew they were fired upon and shelled. One cavalryman was holding several horses when he was struck in the hip by enemy fire. He would die a few days later.

 

Aftermath

In all the Union had 14 men killed and 46 wounded; on the Confederate side 11 were killed and 39 wounded.

Forrest reported to Confederate President Jefferson Davis, “I drove the enemy to their boats and fortifications. We captured clothing, several hundred horses and clothes; we burned a steamer, the dock and all the cotton on the landing. We could have held on longer, but withdrew because of smallpox in the area.”

At 11 p.m. the Confederates withdrew from Paducah to a farm about six miles from Paducah.

The next day Col. Hicks ordered the 60 homes in Paducah burned. Word had gotten to him that the Confederates were planning another attack.

 “We were attacked by an overwhelming force,” Hicks reported. “We repulsed the enemy and beat them back all day. I saw I would be attacked again and the better to protect myself against sharpshooters, I issued the order to burn the home.”

On the 26th the battle of Paducah came to its conclusion. Forrest sent to Hicks an offer to exchange prisoners. Col. Hicks responded he had no power to do so, but if he could he would be most glad to. The Confederates then withdrew.

 

What do you think of this article? Let us know below.

William Walker, the man of destiny from the American South, was a very curious mid-nineteenth century adventurer. He launched various schemes in Mexico and Central America – and was even President of Nicaragua. Curtis H. Stratton explains (Twitter: @Curtis_Stratton).

A portrait of William Walker by George Drury.

A portrait of William Walker by George Drury.

On September 12, 1860, the American-born President of Nicaragua died at the hands of a firing squad. This “gray-eyed man of destiny,” known as William Walker, had conquered the country with sixty men.

For, in the 1850s, bold military expeditions were undertaken by people without government sponsorship - expeditions, which were inherently based on conquest. These men-of-fortune were known as “filibusters.” The most successful, and most disastrously-fated, of these filibusters was a Tennessee native, William Walker. Of slight stature and thin-of-hair, the wildly-ambitious attorney seemed the least-likely to be a conqueror.

Yet, he was to be a conqueror not just once, but twice, and all as a private citizen.

 

Humble Beginnings

Born in Nashville, Tennessee in 1824, the young Walker showed intellectual promise from an early age. At fourteen, he graduated with honors from the University of Nashville. Though he received a medical degree from the University of Pennsylvania at nineteen, Walker first made a name for himself as an attorney in New Orleans.

In New Orleans, Walker experienced his first successes and first tastes of failure. He founded a newspaper after practicing law for some time. His fiancée died of cholera in 1849, when he was but twenty-five. This did not quell the young man’s ambitions, as the United States was full of sentiment surrounding Manifest Destiny - the fervent belief that the United States was destined to settle both North American coasts. This popular conviction showed itself in the Annexation of Texas and the push for further control in the Oregon Territory.

As a Southern man, this ideal was deeply-held by Walker, and, as his ties to New Orleans faded, he decided to “Go West, young man.” The allure of the California Gold Rush drew Walker to San Francisco, where his personal legend grew following a duel with an infamous gunslinger, William Hicks Graham.

 

The Republic of Sonora

In 1853, Walker made a trip to Guaymas, in the Mexican province of Sonora. There, he petitioned the Mexican government to allow him to create a colony to act as a buffer zone between Native American raiders and American territory. Mexico declined his offer, and Walker returned to San Francisco.  

Despite the setback, Walker moved forward with his concept of the “Republic of Sonora.” With a recruitment office established and offers of land within the silver-rich Sonora, Walker was able to find recruits for his expedition, as well as the money necessary to undertake it. War veterans, destitute miners, and other adventuring men joined Walker in his quest to create a new country.

Sailing from San Francisco to La Paz, in Baja, Walker’s small army of roughly fifty men seized the city, imprisoned the Mexican governor, and declared the “Republic of Lower California,” with sights still on the neighboring Sonora. Walker made himself President of this new republic, and the laws of his last home-state, Louisiana, were applied, which made slavery legal.

The capture of La Paz made Walker infinitely popular in San Francisco, and he was reinforced with two hundred Mexicans and two hundred Americans from San Francisco, all of whom were drawn to the allure of land and a role in the new republic.  

Though the Mexican government could not rally an army to dislodge Walker from La Paz, the small force they did send managed to send Walker into retreat to Ensenada, further up the Baja Peninsula.  From there, Walker renamed the republic the Republic of Sonora, consisting of Baja and Sonora.

In a stroke of misfortune, the ship carrying Walker’s supplies left, and his recently-enlarged army soon began to desert.  With few options remaining for the fledgling republic, Walker decided to attack the city of Sonora proper, in hopes of securing a victory and bolstering his army and finances once more.  However, the desertions left him with but thirty-five men, and he crossed the border into American territory, in lieu of capture by the Mexican government.

As filibustering was illegal, he and his men were arrested by the U.S. Army.  He was given a trial in San Francisco, where the attorney-by-trade argued his way to an acquittal from a sympathetic jury. Having come close to victory in the Sonora Expedition, Walker returned to practicing law, his thirst for adventure not-yet-satisfied.

 

The Conquest of Nicaragua

In Nicaragua, thousands of miles south of San Francisco, the exploits of William Walker had reached the warring country. A civil war gripped Nicaragua, with two rival factions vying for control over the Central American country. The liberal Leonese were losing the war to the conservative Granadans.

Having heard of Walker’s expedition in Mexico, the Leonese wanted Walker to assist them in their efforts. Cornelius Vanderbilt, the railroad baron from New York, had expressed interest in creating a canal through Nicaragua to connect the Caribbean with the Pacific. Walker, like many Americans, thus saw Nicaragua as an economic jackpot, having noted it was a country “for which nature has done much and man little.”

Walker agreed to help the Leonese in their conflict, and, on May 4, 1855, he set sail from San Francisco for Nicaragua with a force of sixty men. Landing at San Juan del Sur on June 16, Walker’s volunteers were greeted by two hundred Leonese troops.  

Walker marched his newly-formed army through the Nicaraguan jungle to the Granadan stronghold of Rivas. The Battle of Rivas was a defeat for Walker’s army, but, following a regrouping, he and his men attacked the major city of Granada, taking the Granadans by surprise. The city was firmly his by October 1855, and he declared himself President of Nicaragua. His government was formally-recognized by President Polk in May 1856, giving President Walker international legitimacy.

However, Walker made many enemies through his conquest. By revoking Vanderbilt’s shipping rights in Nicaragua, legalizing slavery, and making English the official language, he provided fodder for a coalition led by the Costa Ricans to oust him from power in early 1857.

 

Home and Back

Walker safely returned to the United States following the collapse of his rule, where he was a popular figure in the South. While he made plans to recapture Nicaragua, he wrote a book and practiced law once more. After the better part of a year back in the States, Walker recruited some of his old followers and left from Mobile, Alabama in November 1857. Landing in Nicaragua, he was soon arrested by the U.S. Navy and taken back to the United States.

After another trial for violation of United States’ neutrality laws, he was again acquitted by a sympathetic jury in 1858. He remained in the United States until 1860, where he sailed from New Orleans to Honduras. The British Navy caught wind of his landing in Honduras. As the British held colonies in Central America, they abhorred the idea of Walker continuing his filibustering schemes.  

Thus, the British captured Walker before handing him over to the Honduran government, which ordered his death via firing squad on September 12, 1860. His last words were a request for clemency for his men, and the thirty-six-year-old “gray-eyed man of destiny” was killed, ending his dreams of conquest for good.

 

What do you think of William Walker and his schemes? Let us know below…

The Georgian era stretched over a century (1714-1830) of Britain’s history, and as such, it has left behind reminders of the time in the shape of buildings, artwork, and literature that are still popular today. The literary works of this era were often a commentary on Georgian society; however, they could not show all aspects of life in this period, and the same can be said for popular television adaptations today. This article looks at Jane Austen’s television conversions and gives some context to the plot lines, especially the plot lines regarding women. Kate Wainwright explains.

Lady Catherine and Elizabeth from the novel Pride & Prejudice. Image from the 1895 edition of the novel.

Lady Catherine and Elizabeth from the novel Pride & Prejudice. Image from the 1895 edition of the novel.

Part 1: Context

When thinking of the Georgian era, it is hard not to think of the architecture that still stands throughout Britain today – its neoclassical elements and sash windows. This period introduced the iconic townhouses, as well as a variety of civic buildings such as town and concert halls. The four Georges that reigned throughout this period, ruled over Jacobite rebellions intent on restoring the Stuart monarchy, the decline of autocracy which resulted in the Napoleonic wars and the loss of the American colonies, and the dissatisfied working class that was suffering from increasingly low-waged, manufacturing jobs and the fear of being replaced by machinery.

The Luddites were formed in response to the Industrial Revolution, the development of the manufacturing process changing from predominantly handmade, to machine produced. The revolution separated the social classes further, as it allowed the middle and upper classes to enjoy success due to the advancements in manufacturing, but those that were in the working class and below suffered greatly. Many found that their jobs had become more dangerous because of the new machinery - wages generally remained low. Those workers that had been replaced by machines moved to more urban areas to find work resulting in congested and unhygienic living conditions that were prone to disease – specifically cholera epidemics which would rampage through London’s ‘slums’ with abandon, before John Snow’s work in the 1850s. The Industrial Revolution meant that more factory-produced goods were being distributed which, unlike the lower classes, resulted in the middle and upper classes relishing in improved living standards and consumerism for a lower price. 

This period also boasted other advances in technology, such as the development of the steam engine and the introduction of the canal system to transport materials and goods to and from factories. The eighteenth century also excelled in and is famed for, its social activities, such as the theatre and ballet which was accompanied by purpose-built structures. The founding of the Royal Academy in 1768 encouraged artistry to develop and come to be admired. The art of writing also flourished during this time, allowing poets to explore Romanticism: this movement also spread to novelists that were now able to work with more exciting and mysterious storylines. The Georgian era was a time of great change and upheaval with wars and uprisings, and a revolution that changed the way Britain produced goods, affecting the entire population. This period was a perfect climate for the growth of art and creativity which can be seen in the enormous outpouring of paintings, literature and era-defining architecture that gives an insight into the people and issues of this era. Writer Jane Austen’s works were part of this defining movement. Born in 1775, Austen’s life mirrored that of the heroines in her novels. She was part of a close-knit family and had a romance with a man, Tom Lefroy, thought to be too wealthy and high up for someone of Jane’s social standing, being the daughter of a clergyman. Taking inspiration from her own life, Austen wrote and published her first four works anonymously, and her last two, Mansfield Park and Persuasion under her own name after she had died.

 

Part 2: Marriage

As her narratives revolve largely around the middle class and single young women, marriage plays a huge role in all of Austen’s novels. In Georgian Britain, as in the TV adaptations, a woman of a certain class remaining single for too long was seen as unfortunate and would affect her chances of marrying the longer it took. We can clearly see this reflected in the 1996 adaptation of Emma in the character of Miss Bates – kind but often silly, and viewed by the other characters with a kind of mocking pity. But there was also the matter of finance to consider, which the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice (1995) portrayed well with the emphatic and easily panicked Mrs. Bennett. She constantly reminds her daughters that if they did not marry, they could be left penniless as their welfare would be left entirely up to their father’s nearest male relative, Mr. Collins. This storyline highlights perfectly the male-dominated society that Georgian women had to negotiate within. Although there were cases in which women could have their own fortune and property, this was only attainable if they were or had been married. Both adaptations for Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility portray this through Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Mrs. Ferris, both grand and well-off widowed women. During this period, upon marriage husbands could arrange a settlement for their wives to live off. However, if a wife became a widow, quite often she would be reduced to poverty had a second allowance not been arranged at the husband’s discretion before his death or at the discretion of his male heir. The Dashwood family in the 1995 Sense and Sensibility illustrated this aspect of Georgian law: they had to rely on the kindness of their half-brother, John Dashwood, which did not amount to very much money in their case.

Often, married couples of this period were brought together because of a variety of scandals, for example, an accidental pregnancy. During this time, local parishes were charged with financially supporting single mothers, but with the passing of the 1733 Bastardy Act, single women were persuaded to declare the father of the baby. The two would then be pressured into marriage; in some cases, the parish would pay the man to go through with it. This particular topic was not touched upon in Austen’s converted works, but the 1995 version of Pride and Prejudice did show an aspect of this when George Wickham sullied Lydia Bennett’s name and would only marry her after assuring he received a significant amount of money for doing so. This story line also highlights the 1753 Marriage Act that was intended to stop couples marrying without parental consent, therefore making inter-class marriage harder. However, some couples ran away to another country or to Gretna Green just over the border in Scotland, where parental consent wasn’t needed over the age of twelve years old for girls and fourteen years old for boys. It was the promise of an elopement that Wickham used to get Lydia to go with him, knowing all the while that he would not go through with it without the money. The 1995 version depicted their wedding in a more realistic way than it did her sisters’ wedding, as during this period wedding ceremonies were small and private, usually only including family and a few close friends and nearly always in the morning followed by a wedding breakfast. Thus, Jane and Lizzie Bennett’s double wedding portrayed in this adaptation was quite overcrowded compared to weddings of the time. The same can be said for the 1996 version of Emma.

 

Part 3: Class

Understanding the class system in Georgian Britain from watching television adaptations of Austen’s works is quite difficult, as the adaptations really concentrate on the middle class and above, which of course could be due to Austen’s target audience being these classes. That being said, the adaptations do highlight the inherent snobbery of Georgian society very well. Take for example the ITV adaptation of Persuasion (2007) in which Anne Elliot was pressured against marrying Fredrick Wentworth, a sailor in the British navy who was considered an unsuitable match for Anne given her father’s distaste for the navy, due to its tendency to raise men from lower classes to distinction through naval victories. This idea that there were disreputable men in the navy underlines the fact that men were often handed over to the navy by the public authorities instead of a jail sentence. Due to its massive size at this point, it was even common for men to be plied with alcohol and tricked into joining the navy; colloquially this was known as the ‘press-gang’. Furthermore, although the Georgian British Navy was incredibly strong, boasting naval victories over the French, a man was more respected among the landed gentry if he was born into his money and status, rather than working his way up. With the changes brought about by the Industrial Revolution, members of the middle class were rising and gaining prominence without inheriting their land and money. Thus, the snobbery shown by Sir Walter Elliot was not uncommon among members of the elite. This is shown again in Emma and her character’s thin tolerance of Miss Bates, being a poor spinster who lives with her mother. Emma is often praised for her charity towards the Bates family when she bestows her company upon them, often bringing food. This aligns with the growth of charity and philanthropy in the Georgian period. With the development of workhouses – ostensibly an institution designed to care for the poor – and encouragement from the Church, generosity towards the poor was quite common but could be proven to be superficial. Mansfield Park (2007) displays this attitude of tolerance and charity, with the wealthy Bertram family taking in their poor relative, Fanny Price. Her mother could no longer afford to keep her as she had married a poor sailor – yet another reference to the dim view that the upper classes held on those who crewed the navy. Although this act was charitable, Fanny was always reminded that she was from a poor family and should be grateful that the Bertrams had allowed her to live with them. In a way, the charity they gave only confirmed the class difference, a charity kept the classes in their respective spheres. It highlighted the fact that the upper class was providing, out of the goodness of their hearts, and the lower classes were dependent on and should be thankful for them.

 

Part 4: Skimming the Surface

Period dramas are an enjoyable way to get a feel for a time but understandably they only skim the facts and don’t delve into specific details. Jane Austen’s televised works wonderfully portray the novels they are based on but only show a light, audience-friendly version of the era in which they are set. The adaptations show a wishful idea of marriage as all the main characters manage to marry for love; however, due to certain laws and financial situations, many women were faced with loveless marriages, something which is explored in secondary plots within the narratives. Equally, although the Dashwood family survived virtually unscathed after their father died and they had to rely on his heir for money, many women were ruined and had to resort to other means, including the workhouse, to survive. The class division was a lot larger than represented in these adaptations, and unfortunately, it was a lot harder to marry across classes than is suggested in the television versions. So, although television adaptations do well in representing the Georgian wardrobe, research is advised for a more thorough knowledge of the time.

 

What do you think of television adaptions based on Georgian Era books? Let us know below.

Sources

Nicholas Rodgers, The Press Gang: Naval Impressment and its opponents in Georgian Britain (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2008)

https://www.londonlives.org/static/PoorLawOverview.jsp

http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/british/empire_seapower/life_at_sea_01.shtml

https://prezi.com/tukjtvj8nizd/18th-century-england-courtship-and-marriage-customs/

http://www.historyextra.com/article/premium/survivors-guide-georgian-marriage

http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/historic_figures/austen_jane.shtml

History from early 19th century America... Vice President Aaron Burr killed a Founding Father in a duel in a state where duels were illegal. The Vice President was not convicted. Then, he was accused of plotting a scheme to create a new territory on the American continent, resulting in a treason trial. We explain below.

An illustration of the duel between American Founding Father Alexander Hamilton and then US Vice President Aaron Burr in July 1804.

An illustration of the duel between American Founding Father Alexander Hamilton and then US Vice President Aaron Burr in July 1804.

US Vice President Aaron Burr shot and killed Alexander Hamilton in a duel in 1804. Following that, Burr’s reputation was tarnished permanently. He had lost his chance of becoming president. Dueling was outlawed in the state of New York, the sentence for the conviction being execution. New Jersey had laws against dueling but with less severe consequences. Following Hamilton’s death from Burr’s bullet, Burr was charged with multiple crimes, including murder in both the states of New York and New Jersey - but was never tried.

Reputation ruined and guilt-ridden, Burr fled to South Carolina before returning to Philadelphia and then to Washington to complete his term as Vice President. After completing his term in 1805, Burr was drowning heavily in debt and with no future on the east coast due to his destroyed political career, Burr ventured to what was known at the time as the Western Frontier, the regions west of the Alleghany Mountains and along the Ohio River Valley that eventually reached the acquired lands in the Louisiana Purchase. He contacted the British diplomat Anthony Merry, who was living in Philadelphia at the time, and offered him his services in any efforts by Great Britain to take control over the western regions of the United States. Merry, out of his resentment for the United States, told his Foreign Ministry that while Burr was disreputably reckless, his ambition and spirit of vengeance would prove useful to the British government. Therefore, Merry became an avid advocate of Burr’s schemes.

 

Burr’s schemes in the west

Today, historians debate about what Burr’s exact aims in this expedition were due to the obvious secrecy on Burr’s part and lack of firm evidence against him. One of Burr’s suspected schemes was to organize a revolution in the West, obtain the Ohio and Mississippi Valleys, and structure them into a separate republic. Another scheme was to establish a republic bordering the United States by seizing Spanish possessions in the Southwest or persuade secession of western states from the Union. Perhaps both were true. Burr viewed war with Spain as inevitable and conspired with General James Wilkinson to establish an independent “Empire of the West” on a Napoleonic model by invading and annexing Mexico to add to their empire with New Orleans as the capital.

To gain further support for his schemes, Burr contacted two people. The first was a lifelong friend, General James Wilkinson, who served as aide to then Colonel Benedict Arnold during the Quebec expedition. Wilkinson was the governor of the Louisiana Territory and had already established a history of shady scheming himself such as being involved in a plot to replace George Washington as Commander-in-Chief with General Horatio Gates. The other co-schemer was Harman Blennerhasset, an Irish immigrant who lived luxuriously on an island in the Ohio River near Parkersburg, West Virginia.

 

An independent Louisiana?

Burr contacted Merry once again and informed him that Louisiana was ready to secede from the United States followed by the rest of the western frontier. For this to happen, Burr requested that Britain provide a $500,000 loan, assure his protection, and dispatch a British naval squadron to the mouth of the Mississippi River. In exchange, Great Britain would receive Louisiana, a former territory of Britain’s enemy, France. Merry gave Burr $1,500, but no response was received from London. The possibility of Burr’s scheme succeeding reduced when Minister Pitt died and was succeeded by Charles James Fox, a lifelong friend of the United States. Fox described the Merry-Burr discussions as “indiscreet, dangerous, and damnable,” before ordering Merry to England on June 1, 1806.

In 1806, Blennerhasset provided Burr funding for the outfitting of a small fleet while Burr’s personal vessel consisted of necessary commodities. Burr’s expedition down the Ohio River Valley consisted of eighty men made up of frontiersmen, filibusters, adventurers, and planters (among others) carrying basic firearms for hunting.

Upon his arrival in New Orleans, Burr was zealously welcomed by the city because his plan to colonize or conquer Spanish territory appealed to many people.

 

When Washington heard…

Burr’s collusion with Wilkinson turned out to be a poor and catastrophic choice on his part. As rumors of Burr’s plans reached Washington, the political establishment suspected treason in Burr’s plans. Wilkinson was stationed on the Sabine River on the Spanish border with the United States when he caught word of Washington’s suspicions and decided to turn on Burr to avoid being charged with treason himself.

On November 25, 1806, President Thomas Jefferson received a dispatch from Wilkinson that warned of Burr’s threatening plans. Jefferson ordered not only Burr’s arrest and apprehension near Nachez, Mississippi while Burr was attempting to flee into Spanish territory, but anyone who conspired to attack Spanish territory. After charges were brought against Burr in the Mississippi Territory, Burr escaped into the wilderness but was recaptured on February 19, 1807 and taken back to Virginia to stand trial.

Burr’s trial could very well be considered the “Trial of the Century” in the United States as it contained a notable set of key participants:

Aaron Burr (Founding Father, Vice President, Alexander Hamilton’s murderer) – the defendant

John Marshall (Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court, the most significant justice in U.S. History) – the trial judge

Thomas Jefferson (Founding Father, author of the Declaration of Independence, President of the United States) – force behind the prosecution

Edmund Randolph and Luther Martin (both delegates to the Constitutional Convention, among the most prominent men of the day) – defense attorney

Charles Lee (former Attorney General) – prosecutor

William Wirt (future presidential candidate) – prosecutor

 

The trial

On March 26, 1807, Burr arrived in Richmond, Virginia at the Eagle Hotel, lodging with a guard. Two months later, Burr was tried for treason in front of U.S. Chief Justice John Marshall. Jefferson prepared an account of Burr’s criminal activities for Congress and wanted to present it to the court. However, Marshall requested that the President instead make an appearance. Interestingly, the President refused which consequently established a precedent for future presidents. Marshall was not on good terms with President Jefferson and thus, found Burr not guilty, citing that Burr committed no overt act of treason. Although free of the charges brought against him, what little was left of Burr’s political career and reputation was permanently destroyed. He died in New York City in 1836. Wilkinson was successful in averting indictment by the Richmond, Virginia grand jury that investigated Burr. Two years before the trial, Wilkinson was appointed governor of the Louisiana Territory by Jefferson. Despite Wilkinson walking free, the governor neglected his duties which resulted in an angry populace rioting against his mismanagement to the extent that troops were deployed to calm the situation.

Though reappointed by Jefferson, Wilkinson’s administration was openly corrupt to the point of President Monroe ordering him court-martialed in 1811. Once again, he was found not guilty and he returned to his career of scheming, once again attempting to swindle the Spanish by traveling to Mexico City to seek a Texas land grant. While the grant was secured, he died in 1825 before the grant’s provisions were fulfilled. Thomas Jefferson died a year later on Independence Day. The sitting president, John Adams’ son, John Quincy, called it “visible and palpable remarks of Divine Favor.”

 

What do you think of the article? Let us know below.

Posted
AuthorGeorge Levrier-Jones